


OUIJA

by luci_on_the_moon



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Dark Comedy, Demons, Horror, Magic, My First Fanfic, Ouija, Psychological Horror, Sebastian is hungry, Twins, You've been warned, and those two are a snack, birthday gone wrong, not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-06-15 19:17:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15419772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luci_on_the_moon/pseuds/luci_on_the_moon
Summary: What started out as a simple game ended as a tragedy.That's what you get for playing with the Devil.





	1. Pity Party

_**December 14th, 1885** _

****

****

The Phantomhive twins' birthday had been a beautiful, festive celebration, filled with love, tasty sweets, and numerous gifts from their aunts, cousins, and all their high-class relatives and friends. Champagne glasses and silver cutlery clinked at the dining table, the grown-ups chattering and chuckling over mindless, first-class issues, as the children twirled, laughed, and played joyfully all through the party until their tiny feet could dance no more.

By midnight, after the twinkling lights went out and the festivity was long over, no soul should have been awake inside the vast, snow-sprinkled mansion, not even the butler.

The wicked, frigid December wind ghosted outside, howling, swaying the garden's naked trees, their frail branches engaging in a macabre dance as a lone, rumbling thunder clapped, cueing the approaching storm's symphony. Safe inside their warm, cozy chamber, the two littlest family members were supposed to be in a deep, serene slumber…

… Except they weren't.

"Oh, don't be so silly, it will be so much fun!" Ciel, the eldest of the two, grinned wide and toothy. Even though he was only older by a few minutes, Ciel's healthy build and outgoing character surpassed his sibling by miles, with a mischief greater than any boy his age should be allowed to possess.

Sitting all giddy on his younger brother's bed, he threw open the old, worn out spirit board between their bent, rosy knees. His baby blue eyes, big, wide and full of excitement didn't seem to even _blink_. His brother gulped, flinching away and scrunching his button-like nose, too wary to even look at the tattered, yellowish piece of carton. The corners were ragged, and intricate, foreign symbols adorned its contour.

"I've read about these, they use them to talk to ghosts!" His own blue eyes reflected none of his elder twin's excitement. He frowned and crossed his slender arms, nesting deeper into his soft, comfy sheets, taking a deep, deep breath to calm his nerves. His delicate health had just begun to improve a bit in the last few months, and the last thing he wanted was another relapse, "I don't like the idea at all", he declared, glaring at his big brother as he sulked deeper into his bed.

On the other hand, Ciel's smile couldn't be wider, "But we could communicate and talk with all kinds of interesting beings!" He whispered in an enthusiastic hush, his eyes rolling back, jaw wide open and arms waving all about, mocking some kind of zombie.

"Don't do that, it's scary!!!", the youngest laid back down and covered himself all the way up to his head, "Just go to sleep, Ciel. Goodnight".

It was Ciel's turn to cross his arms and scowl.

"Oh, don't be such a chicken!! Come on, it will be fun!!" He leaned forwards to shake the big lump hiding under the sheets, "I've read about this, if we want to close the game and expel the spirit, then all we have to do is point the little plank to 'GOODBYE', then it will be game over!", he had read enough about this game, he was sure it would be just fine.

No response. Ciel huffed, staring down at the seemingly harmless board game, and then up at his stubborn little brother.

The rules of the game stated, quite clearly, to never play alone for it increased the risk of danger. Thus, he needed a partner. Convincing his busy father to play with him was a too big of a hassle, and he didn't think he could persuade him, anyways. So he opted for the next best option. But he didn't think, nor did he expect that his naïve little brother would deny playing with him. He thought wrong, apparently. He curled his upper lip in irritation with a scornful 'tsk'.

_No wonder he was the spare brother._

Then suddenly, as if on cue, a smirk tugged at his tubby lips as he came up with a brilliant idea…

"We can even communicate with Father Christmas!!" a hushed exclamation, his last resort. He hoped he could convince him with this.

The obstinate, curled ball underneath the sheets shifted a bit, "You said he wasn't real", with that, the clenched the sheets around himself even tighter, as if shielding himself from his older brother.

"Well, now we'll find out if he's real or not!"

A deep sigh.

"And, if he's real, we might be able to make a wish! We would wish for your health to get better!" As the heir of the Phantomhive legacy, Ciel knew just how to play his pieces to get exactly what he wanted, his sickly little brother of course, was just another one of his pawns. Another sigh, albeit a bit weaker. Ciel saw the sheets crinkle slightly as his brother emerged from beneath them, defeat wet on his face.

Always the crybaby.

"Fine", his low whisper was bordering on a growl, livid eyes looking down. His hands clenched into tiny little fists, and he huffed out his tension.

He was tired of being the weak one.

Loud thunder roared outdoors, the pesky storm doing nothing to calm the youngest Phantomhive's nerves. He wondered if his heart could pop out of his mouth if it beat any faster. It was already in his throat. If he got an asthma attack again, Ciel was to blame.

"Put your fingers like this…Don't move it, it will move on it’s own" They sat on the floor, beside the lit chimney, the spirit board between them. The more Ciel spoke about the rules of the game and its dangers, the more the youngest sibling regretted his decision.

Why would anyone want to talk with ghosts?

"Ok, are you ready?"

Fucked if he was.

But he wasn't one to back down from a decision, he was a Phantomhive, after all. Gathering all of his courage, he nodded, and swallowed hard, his jaw tense. He was a Phantomhive, he retold himself.

It was just a silly game, after all.

… What could possibly go wrong?


	2. Uninvited

Thunder grumbled in the far, far distance, and a strike of lightning cracked the monochrome sky in two as the night continued its rampant, tenebrous lullaby. The howling, moaning wind was strong enough to bend even he tallest, toughest of trees, and cold enough to freeze even the warmest of hearts. But the storm outside couldn't possibly compare to the dark, brooding tempest inside the youngest member of the Phantomhive family.

Everyone seemed to overlook him, ticking him off as a weak, sickly version of the actual heir. Shy and introverted, his overprotective family didn't even let him have the luxury of playing outside out of fear he would fall sick again. The family butler seemed to be his only companion in his long moments of solitude. That's why Ciel was far more popular, he was the social butterfly of all the parties they attended, usually showered with endless attention. 

It was all about Ciel, always. Ciel, the heir of the family title, Ciel, the stronger, healthier of the two, Ciel, the outgoing, charming boy…, the youngest twin sometimes wondered if his family even remembered his name. He knew his older brother reveled in being in the spotlight, even if he tried to deny it. It has gotten to the point where people almost forgot that the Earl of Phantomhive actually had another son.

But he didn't mind.

He had always spent his days indoors, out of sight, inside the blue, star-sprinkled walls of his and his brother's room. He would lose himself playing with his army of toys, between the black and white chess pieces and the cold, pale porcelain dolls. He could pass the time quickly that way. He didn't mind it. He didn't mind being alone, nor did he mind being called the 'spare'. He never wanted the title of 'Earl', to be honest, he couldn't even imagine himself being one. But he did mind being scorned, being belittled. He was sick and tired of being ridiculed, and by his big brother, no less.

He would play this game and show his brother once and for all, that he was no less than a Phantomhive.

"Are there any spirits with us in the room?"

Nothing. Seemed like the only presences in the chamber were the two of them, along with the gentle fire dancing in the chimney, the single light source in the dark of the night. Both waited in suspense, one too eager and one not so much, for anyone, or anything, to answer their call. Perspiration dampened their little fingers as they held the game's black plank, tension coiling deep in their bellies.

Another thunder roared, startling the youngest sibling right off his skin. He crawled into his brother's arms with a yelp, poor heart thumping loud against his eardrums.

"Hey, hey, don't be scared, it's just the weather!" Ciel sighed, closing his tired eyes in exasperation, petting his brother's little head as if he were but a startled kitten. Why did his brother have to be so fainthearted? He groaned, looking down at the annoying blue-grey tuft of hair that mirrored his own, "We can't play if you're this scared, you've even moved the little plank!" he scolded.

"W-what? I-I did not move a thing!" He looked up at his older twin, all teary eyed, pudgy fingers buried deep in his brother's white nightshirt, "I swear!", sniffing, he turned to look at the abandoned game, the dancing flame from the fireplace casting abstract, spooky shadows around it on the floor, crackling faintly in the otherwise quiet room.

"Yes you did! It was in the middle of the board, on the 'G', precisely, and now it's on the 'YES'! you surely moved it when you freaked out like a baby and jumped on me"

"I swear I…", He paused suddenly, pretty hand supporting his dainty jaw, lips pursed in thought, "Wait a minute, didn't you ask it a question earlier?"

The older twin mirrored his confused expression, "Yes?"

"Well… what if the spirit answered?" The junior's eyes widened in new-found wonder, the fire's reflection in his baby blues gleaming wickedly.

Lightning illuminated the room for a sole millisecond, right before a thunder boomed. Quite the lovely weather. Cautiously, they approached the gaming board and put their fingers on the plank again, both biting their pretty lips nervously. Clearing his throat, Ciel hesitantly opened his mouth to speak, "A-Are you a ghost?", he asked. He was absolutely terrified, to be honest, but the funny, tingly feeling in his tummy gave him a little bit of bravery.

It was his duty to be brave, after all, he was the eldest son. The Phantomhive heir.

A cold, wicked wind chilled them to the core, even though all the windows were securely closed and the fireplace was on and strong. They both gasped when the little, vexing plank moved under their small hands.

"This is not funny, Ciel!"

"I swear I'm not moving it!"

Their tiny hearts raced like a hummingbird's wings, trapped inside their wee, fragile ribs as the plank finally halted on the word 'NO'.

"You moved it, tell the truth, Ciel", the healthy blush had bled from the boy's plump cheeks, now pale and icky, sweat accumulating on his brow.

"I swear to God, I… Huh?", Ciel trailed off, staring at the cursed board in utter shock.

He couldn't believe his eyes. Both boys fell into deafening silence, as the plastic plank moved all on its own to the middle of the shabby board, tracing little '8' figures non-stop. They weren't even touching it this time.

Shit just got real.

"Oh no…This...This doesn't look good… not at all good!!" Ciel shot up from his place to wrap his arms around his brother, shielding the youngster from any possible harm, "Please God, protect-…"

Words were ripped from the tip of his tongue as he somehow lost his voice. A loud, gritty, malevolent cackle resonated, rumbling the tile-blue walls with its intensity, sending shivers down the little boys' spines.

They watched, with their jaws drooping open, as mass of hectic, frenzied, ebony tendrils manifested from nothingness before them. Their sapphire-blue eyes, big, wide and wet with fear, were transfixed on the monstrous supernatural display taking place right in front of the warm chimney. The black, inky haze was compelling, dancing like a wild flame, dripping in gluey, viscous, shiny ropes to the carpeted floor. 

The twins snuggled closer together, like mice caught in a trap, trembling, their teeth chattering loudly in sheer horror. Pathetic, frightened sobs hitched inside their dry throats, both of their hearts pulsing painfully as droplets of cold sweat slid down their spines. They were dreaming. This must be a dream.

A dark, messed up dream. A nightmare.

Black coils licked and gripped at each and every object that came in their way, disheveling the boys', once clean, room. Deep beneath the inky swirls, a dark, tall, lean silhouette could be seen, towering above them menacingly, nearly twice the boys' height.

Their breaths hitched painfully when a pair of glowing, sanguine red eyes opened.


	3. Once Upon A Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, beautiful people!! please leave a kudos and comment on what you liked/didn't like <3

The twins had never seen a darker shade of black.

Darker than a moonless sky, the quirky, dancing tendrils seemed to swallow the luminance of all light sources, consuming the chimney’s flame, killing the single light source in the boys’ room. It would have been pitch black if it weren’t for the creature’s glowing stare, its eyes a vivid shade of freshly-spilled blood, illuminating the place with a whimsical, rosy hue.

A low, deep, constant growl reverberated through the chamber, almost like a feline’s purr. Its pupils slitted in absolute delight, grinning like a cheshire cat would, revealing all his well-pointed canines. Alternating his menacing gaze from one boy to the other, he snorted at the two little, quivering things, the sarcastic sound echoing against the walls. Oh, what a delectable, mouth-watering little situation. Finally, some top-notch entertainment to quench his never-ending boredom. 

"Pardon my rudeness, perhaps I should have knocked the door first" 

Pretending politeness, the creature's sound was deep, velvety and oddly becoming, one could even describe it as charming despite its vexing, feral echo. It smirked again, lascivious and abnormally wide, the sight of the poor, petrified children almost too funny for him to keep a straight face. Running a long, black tongue over his gleaming, pointy fangs, he swallowed down another fit of giggles.

This was promising to be one hell of a night.

Four sky-blue eyes were transfixed on the shady visitor, unblinking, tears of fear silently sliding down their peachy faces. The demon could smell their panic, could sense the tiniest quiver of their petal-colored lips. He relished in their terror, their scent almost inebriating him, their drumming hearts music to his ears. Why were they so silent? Most people would have screamed their lungs out by now. 

A rhythmic click-click-click echo could be heard as the supernatural being strutted about, six-inch heels so sharp they could slice through skin and bone as he circled the boys, analyzing them from all sides, "Whatever shall I do with the pair of you? Hmm?", he pinched his own chin, mocking a pensive pose. Wine-colored eyes darted from one teary, snotty face to the other, and he couldn't help a sinister snicker from escaping him.

Honestly, what a hilarious sight.

Pathetic.

"WHA- WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM US?!" being older –and bolder- Ciel finally found the guts to speak. His brother could only watch in terror as their rude visitor sat in mid-air, cross-legged, levitating like some fairytale genie, "Me?”, the fiend replied, “I was merely answering your foolish questions, since I was wandering about in the area, and bored out of my wits" he leaned forward, resting his chin on one hand, gesturing his comments with the other, a blank, unimpressed look on his face, "I wasn't planning on revealing myself, but I figured I deserve some kind of diversion tonight, and both of you seem quite interesting"

Interestingly delicious... 

“Let's turn the tables, shall we?" The creature mumbled nonchalantly, inspecting his long, black nails, "I'll ask the questions, and you two shall answer", with a deep sigh, he looked down to the ouija board that still laid intact on the carpet, and with one sticky tendril, he picked it up and dangled the old piece of paper in front of him, another grin tugging at the end of his lips, "Could I inquire why are you playing this kind of unruly game at this late of an hour? It could get dangerous, you see", Long, sharp fangs could be seen as the creature spoke, as if to prove his point.

Coughing painfully, the littlest lad gulped down his fear and sniffled loudly, big blue eyes glaring right at the glowing, crimson orbs before him. He switched to sit on his pink knees, his white nightgown pooling around him, "It's…It's our birthday, sir", his innocent, dulcet voice was a sharp contrast against the creature's grave, hollow sound. Sweet, sweet innocence seeped through every syllable that came from this child’s mouth, and the Demon had already picked his favorite between the two souls.

His eyebrows raised in mirth, a gentle smile splayed on the Devil’s face as he dropped the gameboard from his grasp, "Your birthday? Oh, how utterly marvelous!”, Putting his hands together in a clap, he continued, “ And what, pray tell, were you expecting to summon, a damned cake?"

The little one shrugged, lowering his watery eyes to the ground, lips curved in an adorable pout, could this creature get any more endearing? 

"We were expecting Father Christmas", he mumbled solemnly.

Honestly, if the demon were drinking anything right about now, he would have choked.

Willing himself not to burst out laughing, he regarded the identical twins for a moment, noting how the outspoken, older twin’s heart raced much quicker than that of his shy, calm brother. Putting on his best sympathetic mask, he spoke truthfully, “Father Christmas? I’m afraid he’s not real, child”, he ran a clawed hand through his thick hair, the onyx locks long enough to reach his waist, scattering and floating about in sync with his whole mystic aura. 

“You’re lying… Santa Claus is real! He brings us gifts every Christmas!”, balling his little fists, the young boy grit his teeth and blinked away the fresh tears clinging to his eyelashes, “You’re a liar!”

The Devil smiled, leaning forward to take a closer look at the defiant child, whom unlike his brother, had dared to look the beast in the eye and stand tall on his feet despite his trembling knees. Reaching out his left hand, he cupped the boy’s wet face, caressing his plump cheek with a long-clawed thumb.

“Oh, but little one, I don’t tell lies”

Leaning into the the warm touch just like a pliant kitten, his cerulean eyes glistened and reflected the monster’s fiery, glowing embers. The youngest Phantomhive did not back away from the fiend, whose garnet eyes and rich, deep voice seemed familiar, as if he’s met him once upon a dream. 

Their brief moment was cut short when a solid, heavy object almost came in contact with the Devil’s head, halting in mid-air just inches from his large, spiraling horns.

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!”, throwing another chess piece at the monster, Ciel tried -and failed- to push the Demon away from his dear little brother, to pry those hideous talons from his twin’s serene face. Armed with his chess pawns, he was ready to throw the whole chess board at that vexing, nefarious smirk.

“My, oh my! Attacking me with small chunks of wood? Is that your best idea of a weapon?”, he snickered, dropping the pieces that hang in mid-air to the floor, their impact muffled by the soft carpet, “You see, you can’t kill me with these kinds of toys”, letting go of the passive child in his hands, he turned his attention to Ciel, who fell down to his bottom the moment those malefic eyes glowered at him, a piercing shriek ripping through his small throat, his face hot, wet, and as red as a ripe apple.

And oh, how the Demon lusted for a bite.


	4. Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello beautiful people! Thanks for coming! Smash that kudos button and comment of what you liked/didn't like! <3

The youngest Phantomhive had never smelled anything sweeter.

Out of all the things he expected the fiend to do, he never imagined the monstrously tall creature would prepare an elaborate late night dessert, complete with sugared pastries, scones and earl grey tea, all with a single snap of his fingers. The honeyed, ambrosial fragrance hypnotized the child, who hadn’t realized he was drooling until the saliva started dripping on his white nightgown in viscous drips.

Embarrassed, he quickly wiped his chin and got up on wobbly feet, taking slow, little baby steps towards the enchanted table, his reddened cheeks bright, almost as bright as those evil embers watching his every move from his respective chair. The Demon shifted in his seat, crossing his long legs and leaning forwards, chin resting on one hand as the other motioned for the child to come closer.

“Come, my little phantom, the quicker the better,” with an amiable voice, he smiled as kindly as a hell spawn could, “You surely wouldn’t like to drink lukewarm tea, now would you?”

“D-don’t call me that” the boy spurted, voice hushed and perhaps too low for anyone to hear, the ever-present fear that coiled in his belly restraining his vocal chords. It was loud enough for the Demon’s sensitive ears, though, whom in turn, snorted at the sight of the kid’s trembling knees.

“Oh? But you haven’t told me your name yet, child”, tilting his horned head to one side, he reached for the steaming tea pot to fill up his prey’s cup. Of course, he knew exactly what his name was, but it would be sweet to hear him introduce himself, with that saccharine voice.

“I’m not telling you my name,” The boy said defiantly, staring the beast right in the eyes with renewed resolve, “And why is that?” a voice responded, several octaves deeper than the child’s.

“Because I don’t know yours.”

Ah, a curious brat. Curious souls have the strongest flavours, or so they say.

The Devil looked as if he’d just seen a kitten, too amused to even bother with responding. He wasn’t truly interested in the kid’s name, anyways. A rose by any other name is still a rose.

Or like in this case, a brat by any other name is still a brat.

“I see. How about you call me any name you want, and I do the same with you?”, he was putting himself in a risky place, for all he knew, the kid could call him something terrible, like ‘Dick’, or ‘Claude’..

“Sebastian”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’ll name you Sebastian…”

Oh that’s cool. That’s fine. Not a bad name at all.

“...because you kind of look like our dog.”

_Shitty little brat._

Swallowing down his discontent, he smiled as if the kid had told a cute joke.

He could smell his prey’s hunger, could sense his little heart flutter at the sight of the red velvet lava cake he’d just cut. The chocolate seeped from the syrupy cake, much like the drool seeping once again from the poor boy’s lips.

The Devil smirked. “So? Are you not going to join me, my little phantom?”

Just like a spider, he’d weaved the perfect trap for his victim, having no trouble penetrating into that fist-sized brain and taking note of what he liked, of what made his little mouth water, what made his heart jump in delight. From what he’d found, the way to this boy’s heart was through his tummy.

Incidentally, it was the way to the Devil’s heart, too.

His prey warily stepped closer, tubby hands slowly reaching for the tall chair to climb onto, before a black, smoky wisp circled his waist, lifting him up rather unceremoniously and plonking him down onto his seat. The high-pitched yelp that emerged from the child could have woken up the dead, but the Demon couldn't have cared less. His food was moving too slow for his liking, and patience was definitely not a virtue of his.

Besides, no one will ever come over to interfere with his dinner.

He’d made sure of that.

Upon seeing the seething look on the trembling boy’s face, he figured an apology would have to ensue, “Please excuse my lack of manners, but I figured you might need some help, so I acted accordingly,” there, that should do it. What was the brat so grumpy about, anyways? He wasn’t even bleeding yet!

“Don’t ever do that again, Sebastian! It’s scary!” the boy’s big blue eyes were wet, and so wide he resembled an owl. Precious little thing, he honestly thought the beast gave an actual fuck about what he liked or didn’t like. Shifting in his chair, his prey crossed his arms and glared at him with an adorable, tooth-rotting frown.

Sighing heavily, and slipping on his best empathetic mask, the Devil, or ‘Sebastian’ apologized again.

Kids these days were tricky, vexing little imps.

On another note, Ciel felt just about as pitiful as he looked.

Restrained by the Devil’s sooty grip, the slimy tendrils seemed to have a mind of their own, they clutched impossibly tighter around his body whenever he tried to squirm free, and loosened to a painful but tolerable squeeze if he stayed still. The fact that he was suspended in mid-air with the crumpled-up ouija board shoved up inside his mouth did little to help him restore his lost dignity. There he was, face red with anger and humiliation, wet with tears, snot and drool, feeling as helpless as a fly caught in a spider’s web.

Looking down at the damned pair dining without him, he felt the acid lick of regret burn in the pit of his stomach. He would have vomited if his mouth weren’t stuffed.

He wished he had never found that weird game folded neatly in between his father’s books. He wished he had listened to his brother and had just gone back the fuck to sleep. He wished he hadn’t thrown anything at their damned ‘visitor’, what was he even thinking? He was no match for that wretched thing.

“It’s your fault, you know,” the beast stated, shrugging indifferently at the bound and gagged child, “If you hadn’t behaved like such a brat, you could have joined us for midnight tea and munched on some of my special cake”, with a wink and smile, he licked his lips, his black, inhuman tongue savoring every bit of fear in the dark atmosphere, every single drop of despair, all coming from the small, confined boy.

The macabre-looking table set was custom made and placed strategically below Ciel, the older twin serving as some sort of useless chandelier. A wet, noisy, irritating chandelier.

“You’re not hurting him, are you?”, the youngest twin questioned, worrying his bottom lip nervously at the sight of his brother. His heart ached for him, but a tiny little part inside of him felt satisfied, content. Serves him right for dragging him into all of this mess.

“Of course I’m not hurting him” _Much_.

After five cupcakes, six scones, two slices of cake and four cups of tea, the beast was convinced the child's stomach was a bottomless pit. For such a small body, how could he eat so much?

“So, little phantom,” he spoke with a clear voice, “Was my special cake to you liking?”

The little gobbler took a break from stuffing his face with the red velvet cake to look at the Devil, wide grin on his chocolate-smeared face, “Yes, it tastes good, thank you very much, Sebastian.”

Such a vexing little imp. The Demon was sure the found some kind of wicked joy in calling him with a mutt’s name.

Somehow, ‘Sebastian’ found himself wondering just how loud would that small, thick skull crunch between his fangs, and how syrupy would that warm, young blood feel on his tongue. Would those perfect little teeth taste like sugar? Would those white, dainty legs feel as tender as they looked? Would the boy let him take an experimental bite?

Only one way to find out...


	5. Sweet Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read with caution, there's gore, and death. Also, kisses <3

“Aren’t you going to eat, Sebastian?”

The innocent question took the devil by surprise, wine-red eyes widening a bit at the boy, whose peachy cheeks glistened with chocolate remains. Truth be told, he was ravenous, but for an entirely different kind of fix. Sebastian smiled, fangs peeking between full lips as he answered, “Don’t you worry, little phantom, I’ll be sure to have my meal later”.

Such a considerate child, worrying about a hell-spawn like himself.

How naive.

He observed the boy, watching as that rosy pink tongue darted out to lap off the food on his face, sighing at the sweet taste, cerulean blue eyes closing in delight. The sight reminded him of a kitten, a creature he was hugely fond of. Chocolate, on the other hand, was a whole different story. Chocolate was disgusting.

Looking up at the suspended kid above them, he felt his appetite perk up again.

Ciel’s tears dripped onto the table, cheeks blushed a ripe shiny red. The ouija board, now a crumpled pulp, was soaked in drool. Pink and purple bruises had already started decorating his body from the tendrils’ firm grasp. Livid eyes stared down at the mocking creature, frowning so hard his eyebrows seemed to fuse together. Sebastian wished he’d stuffed his mouth with an apple instead of that old board game.

It would have suited that poor little pig better.

“Tell me, boy, how does it feel ending up as the victim of your own game?”, The demon laughed, glaring at his trampled prey right before squeezing him with his coils. Ciel sobbed, a pathetic sound breaking from his throat as the creature smirked. His inky, smoky threads felt and groped, marveling at the feel of soft, youthful skin. The spicy scent of adrenaline made Sebastian’s mouth water, the rushed, battering pulse music to the devil’s ears.

Patience, he told himself, gulping down to keep his hunger at bay. His meal wasn’t seasoned enough yet. The main ingredient was still missing.

“Sebastian?” a dulcet voice brought him back to reality, “you’re hurting him.”

Oh.

Bringing his attention back to the boy across the table, he smiled again, as kindly as a demon like himself could, “Would you like me to release your brother, little one?", his smile widened, a bit too wide for a human perhaps. But the child was not alarmed by his monstrous fangs, nor by his flaming red eyes. He simply nodded, ingenuously trusting the monster. A terrible decision, really.

“Your wish is my command, then.”

In the blink of an eye, one of the devil’s tendrils tightened around the captive child’s throat, slashing through the flesh, cracking the bone and tearing the ligaments. Ciel’s freshly severed head fell right onto the chocolate cake, a beautiful cherry on top.

Dark, syrupy blood spurted and dripped down the dessert in gluey ropes, much to the devil’s delight. Blood was better than chocolate.

Much, much better.

Ciel’s eyes stayed wide open, glazed and empty, unseeing. Dead. The surviving twin did not utter a word, didn’t even flinch. Not even a blink. The devil wasn’t sure he was even breathing. Was he dead?

Sebastian shrugged. It wasn't like he cared much, anyways.

Jumping gracefully onto the table, Sebastian grabbed Ciel’s head by his thick, grey hair and brought it up to take a bite out of his soft, warm cheek. He groaned at the taste of young blood, children always tasted best. He munched some more, sampling the taste of those saccharine lips, the flesh seemed to melt in his mouth for it was so tender, so sweet.

He was so, so glad the other brat was still in shock, or else he would have had to shut him up.

Then, as if on cue, the boy screamed.

It wasn’t loud, but it was a scream, nonetheless. He wheezed, then coughed, then he screamed some more. Did this brat have asthma? He looked just about to cough his lungs out. He wouldn’t mind that, in fact, he found the taste and texture of lungs quite the delicacy.

Dropping the body-less head abruptly onto the sticky, bloodied table, he strutted over to the choking twin, sharp heels clicking to the rhythm of the boy’s labored, agonized breaths. He laughed out loud when he saw the boy jump from his seat pathetically, tripping over his own feet as he tried to escape. Sebastian was on top of him in no time, straddling his tiny hips and holding him down with his threads.

He’d always liked to play with his food.

“Shh, little one, you wouldn’t want to end up like your brother, now would you?” Sebastian’s deep, velvety voice along with his intoxicating aroma lulled the terrified boy into silence.

Thick, sticky crimson dripped from the devil’s lips onto the child’s face as their noses bumped together. Sebastian licked his carmine lips clean, then angled his face just so he could taste the tears off the human’s cheeks, his black tongue prodding at the succulent flesh, a low, feral growl rumbling through his chest.

The boy trembled beneath him, his lithe form moist with a mixture of sweat and blood. Sebastian cupped his angelic face, brushing back a few locks of grey hair, “Shh, this will all be over soon enough”. The creature could not help but stare, enthralled by the child’s eyes. They were the most alluring shade of blue he’d ever seen. The devil wondered if they’d taste like the ocean. 

Then he smiled.

A dark, sadistic, blood-curling smile.

The devil brought a single finger up to his prey’s right eye, and with a flick of his wrist, gouged it out with a sick ‘pop’.

The boy howled.

Blood splattered on both of their faces, the child’s coltish limbs kicking and slapping at the fiend as pulsing crimson drenched his face. A burning, phantom pain stung from his empty socket, wheezed, agonized screams seemed to rip his throat to shreds, the musky smell of gore filling his nostrils. The spawn’s confines grew stronger, those bloodthirsty eyes regarding the wailing child, narrowing in mirth as his prey thrashed in anguish.

With the boy’s sobbing wails as ambient music, he popped the blue eye into his eager mouth, fangs instantly biting into the translucent, gelatinous flesh, squelching lewdly, moaning as the juicy organ thawed like butter on his tongue.

With his remaining eye, all the boy could see through all the screams was red. Bright, dangerous, sanguine red.

Sucking his fingers clean of all the blood and slick, Sebastian leans over his trembling prey and tears open his bloodied nightgown, his grin widening as each button popped and scattered about on the floor. The surviving twin was so thin, his willowy limbs looked so frail in stark of the beast’s tendrils. Fine ribs were visible as his tiny chest rose and fell with each wheezy, shivering breath.

“Delicious,” He exhaled, licking the remaining moisture on his lips, pawing at the young, skinny body with fervor, tracing the delicate ribs with his fingers, careful not to sink his claws into the beautiful boy just yet. His lone, remaining eye was glassy, absent, looking at nothing in particular. Either the kid was in shock, or he was dying. Or both.

The musky smell of terror weakened little by little, adrenaline dropping by the second. Sebastian knew the boy could die any moment now. He could feel it in his drowsy, lazy protests, and his short, shallow breaths. He tucked his long, inky hair behind his ear and hovered forwards, his mouth inches from the boy’s. His tongue darted out to nip at the child’s lips, teasing and nibbling before taking him in for a kiss. The twin gasped, low and weak, as the beast sucked his life essence right from his throat, swallowing sip after torturous sip, drip after drip.

Their lips parted with a smack, a thin dribble of spit connecting them briefly. The human’s remaining eye was still open, his lips still juicy from the kiss, and if it weren’t for his silent heart, one would think he was still alive. He looked sublime, even with his eye popped out, even in death.

The devil smiled.

Gently, he put his hand over the child’s eye, closing it, before leaning in for a final kiss, pressing his lips into the cold flesh as a form of ‘goodbye’.

“Sweet dreams, my little phantom.”

And with that, he simply vanished, leaving behind two dead bodies and a blood-saturated room.

Scotland Yard would have a hard time inspecting the crime scene tomorrow. They surely wouldn’t suspect the cause of this bloodbath to be a simple Ouija game, now would they?

Never in a million years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's a wrap!! Kudos, comments are most welcome!! Come talk to me on tumblr: @luci-on-the-moon

**Author's Note:**

> Smash that kudos button. Smack it real good. Or else I won't update lol.
> 
> Ah, my first fic ever what the hell. This is ridiculously short, but I'm glad I finally grew the balls to post it.
> 
> Feel free to come and talk to me on tumblr: @luci-on-the-moon  
> You can ask me about my fic, or we can just talk about life and how much of a bitch it is XD.
> 
> Thanks for reading my work <3


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